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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24661093">To be sure we don't miss the signs of someone</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/shichan/pseuds/mugiji'>mugiji (shichan)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Byhardt Week (Fire Emblem), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Black Eagles Route, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 04:34:33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,600</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24661093</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/shichan/pseuds/mugiji</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Because, either we want it or not, time passes. The seasons change. Sometimes it’s hatefully cruel that the world keeps going on, but isn’t it also reassuring somehow?”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Linhardt von Hevring/My Unit | Byleth</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>BYHARDT WEEK 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>To be sure we don't miss the signs of someone</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Day 4 of byhardt week! <br/>The tag says Black eagles route but keep in mind that it's more to give an idea about which class Byleth chose than anything too specific. CF is the only route I haven't finished yet, so I tried to not add too many details to avoid inconsistencies with the canon!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Fódlan is not particularly warm, but Byleth supposes he should be grateful anyway; summer came and despite it not being </span>
  <em>
    <span>hot</span>
  </em>
  <span>, it’s not so cold that fishes hide for hours. Summer is the season when he can enjoy fishing to his heart’s content, so while most of the students from the Alliance and the Empire can finally stay outside without regretting being far from home (or, in some cases, without cursing against that particular region’s weather), he spends his free time by the pond. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The sun is still high but way past the point it would be at midday, which means that he missed lunch. But, to be honest, the weather is so nice he didn’t even notice how much time had already passed. If a couple of students hadn’t told him that he was going to find every single plate empty, Byleth would have simply kept staring at the pond (which he did, by the way). It’s so peaceful, with four fishes already in his basket, that Byleth doesn’t notice the steps coming close until they are, in fact, </span>
  <em>
    <span>too close</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Byleth turns enough to see Linhardt, an annoyed expression and a book under one arm. The hold on the fishing rod loosens, Byleth’s shoulders relax as Linhardt greets him with a “Summer is awful.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Byleth keeps quiet and, once he notices that Linhardt seems to be looking for enough space to sit, he moves slightly on his left to make some room. With a silent thank you (or at least that’s what Byleth thinks his gaze and nod mean), Linhardt sits and lets out a big sigh. That’s a bit confusing: Byleth is quite sure about the other not being fond of cold weather, so… “I thought you preferred summer over winter.” he tries, eyes on the pond but still paying attention to him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In the corner of his eye, Linhardt shakes his head as he puts the book on his lap. “Of course I prefer this over </span>
  <em>
    <span>freezing to death</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Professor.” it’s the first reply Byleth gets “But summer is still awful. I can’t take a nap in my room, because it feels gross if I don’t open the window, but last time I did I had to go </span>
  <em>
    <span>outside</span>
  </em>
  <span> because half of my notes were kidnapped by the wind.” Byleth can almost see the scene and can’t help but curve his lips a little bit. Fortunately, either Linhardt doesn’t see him or doesn’t mind him. “And I can’t take a nap outside because with the good weather </span>
  <em>
    <span>everyone </span>
  </em>
  <span>wants to enjoy the nature, apparently.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Byleth supposes this is something… serious. He doesn’t know what to say, though. There are still times when people ask him for some advice and he spectacularly fails at giving them, so instead of telling Linhardt to look for another spot to nap, it’s better to just nod and wait for him to actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>tell him</span>
  </em>
  <span> that he wants his opinion on the matter.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Linhardt opens his book, flips the pages until he finds the right one; with a brief peek, Byleth identifies the book as one about Reason magic, yet doesn’t give any comment. In fact, the one to speak is Linhardt as he looks at the pond first and the at Byleth himself. “Is that pleasant?” he asks, one finger pointing at the water. Does he mean fishing?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It is. Even when fishes don’t come for a while.” “No, I meant the feet in the water.” Linhardt clarifies. Byleth had almost forgotten about his abandoned boots behind him. He’s been keeping his feet in the pond for a while now, pants rolled up to his knees. “Oh.” that’s the first thing coming out of his mouth “Yes, it is. You should try.” “Hopefully, fishes won’t eat me.” Linhardt comments, skeptical voice despite him taking off his shoes. What Byleth likes the most about Linhardt’s company is that it feels natural— he’s not used to sharing space with others and it often comes out as uncomfortable because Byleth isn’t really perceptive of feelings and he’s quiet, which rarely works with people. Yet Linhardt is okay with silence and when he isn’t, he usually talks enough for the both of them, especially when it comes to research about crests. And Byleth doesn’t mind, really. It’s relaxing, in its own way.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They spend a lot of time like that. Sometimes the sound of the water when a fish is caught breaks the silence; sometimes it’s the book’s pages being flipped. The sky is already changing its color when Sothis’ voice in his head almost makes Byleth drop the fishing rod: </span>
  <em>
    <span>Seriously, how long are you going to make him waits?! This is ridiculous!</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Everything’s okay, Professor?” “Yes.” Byleth replies even before realizing he’s actually doing it and puts the rod away, feet now out of the water. “It’s almost time for dinner, right?” he tries, because what is he supposed to do? He thought Linhardt was okay with spending time together like that, but judging by Sothis’ angry voice…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think you barely fished enough for Caspar’s dinner, Professor.” Linhardt jokes as he closes the book and lets his feet dry before he can actually wear his shoes again. “Let’s hope the cook did a fair job.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>*</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>It’s been almost six months since Byleth joined Garreg Mach as a teacher - which is still very confusing, if you ask him - and while summer felt a little warmer, the weather is going back to its usual chillness that will soon become unbearably cold when winter will be here. Teaching is not so bad anymore, if Byleth has to be honest; he thinks that all he achieved in the relationships with his students is mainly thanks to the monthly missions and the battles they engaged— he didn’t tell them, though. It’s still weird to admit he’s more comfortable getting to know them through the battlefield than through conversation or tea time or small activities together. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Wyvern moon is already in its second week and Byleth somehow heard about a ball that should be in two months. Girls seem especially happy about it, but Byleth is sure he heard also some of the guys mention it. Even </span>
  <em>
    <span>Alois</span>
  </em>
  <span>— with all due respect, Byleth doubts he’s exactly… graceful enough for it. But, well, it’s not a bad thing. He supposes that for teachers this will be mandatory, yet he can just stay there and eat. Observe. Blend into the crowd. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You are such a bore</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Sothis argues but before he can actually answer Linhardt is not only coming towards him but, the moment he closes the distance, he hides behind one of the stands the market hosts. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hide me, Professor.” he begs “Death is approaching.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Byleth doubts the other means it </span>
  <em>
    <span>literally</span>
  </em>
  <span> but he turns and moves to hide him nonetheless. Mere seconds before Hubert appears from behind a corner (one that is supposed to be too small for a person…) and looks around, noticing Byleth. It takes him a few, steady steps to be in front of him and ask “Do you happen to have seen Linhardt?”. His words are still quite polite but Hubert clearly has no intention of wasting more time than necessary with some useless chitchat. Byleth shakes his head: “Not yet.” he replies “But I came from— the dining hall. Did you try the stables route?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hubert gives him such a look that Byleth wonders if he just said something rude for the standards of the right-hand man of the future Adrestian Empress. Then, Hubert sighs. “To think that Lady Edelgard has such high praises for your strategic skills.” he says, shaking his head and going towards the opposite direction. Byleth doesn’t think he will manage to understand Hubert before the graduation ceremony, really. At least he seems to have helped Linhardt; once Hubert is nowhere to be seen anymore, Byleth turns and moves on the right, enough for Linhardt to come out of his hiding place. He pats his uniform a bit before giving him an absent-minded “Thanks, Professor.” with his eyes on the stand. It’s one that is often there, selling a lot of different products, from small and (very) cheap gems to old books. Of course it would catch Linhardt’s attention.</span>
</p>
<p><span>“Why was Hubert looking for you like that?” “Your words hurt me. They sound like I did something horrible to him.” Linhardt objects, with that slightly amused voice Byleth often hears when he catches him talking (</span><em><span>making fun of</span></em> <em><span>them</span></em><span>) to Hubert or Ferdinand. Maybe this is just their way to be friendly with each other. Byleth doesn’t speak, giving the other the time to look around for books instead. In the end Lingardt buys the oldest one, at least judging by the cover, and Byleth is about to leave without purchasing anything for himself when they both notice a couple of eyes staring at them. It doesn’t feel very murderous, that’s why Byleth doesn’t worry too much— thank the Goddess, since he finds out pretty easily that the one staring at them is a small kid. Byleth and Linhardt share a look before Byleth bends on his knees enough to make eye contact with her. She’s probably around seven or eight, Byleth is quite sure he has seen her playing with the cats. </span></p>
<p>
  <span>“Were you looking for something?” he asks her, because it’s pretty unusual for kids to be there at the market by themselves. Usually, the nuns buy all they need and then give it equally to all the children. Also, from what Byleth knows, kids don’t have their own money nor a way to earn something. The little girl quietly stays there, shifting her weight from a foot to the other; Byleth gives her a small smile, focusing on the few leaves she keeps in her hands. They are of a dark yellow, one of the typical colors of autumn. “Did you pick them up by yourself?” he tries again and she nods this time. Byleth still feels Linhardt’s presence behind him and the young girl notices him too—that’s when Byleth sees her eyes focus on the stand more than on the boy. Following her gaze it’s easy to guess what she’s fascinated by: it’s a very small gem, probably one that can’t even be considered a jewel, a simple red one set as a pendant.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is that the one you want?” Byleth tries, even though the little girl hasn’t answered once with words, but it’s okay with him. She looks shy, conflicted - it’s so painfully obvious that she wants it but, no matter how much the merchant can lower the price, Byleth doubts she will be able to afford it. The gem may be cheap but… “How much is it?” Byleth asks to the merchant, a not-too-old man he has seen several times during these months. He is a good guy, a friendly one that always greets him by calling him ‘young teacher’ despite Byleth having told him his name. As he suspected, the price is not high per se; he gives the man a few coins (he doesn’t miss the light frown on Linhardt’s face but decides to investigate later) and buys the pendant.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you want to trade?” Byleth offers to the little girl who is looking at him as if Byleth has the whole world in his hands. She nods, but the confusion on her face is obvious. Byleth points at the leaves in her hands “I will give you the pendant for… two leaves.” he offers, hoping that this much will settle it. More than once Byleth has witnessed how kids from the monastery rarely accept gifts, but… the girl nods, maybe because she truly believes that this is a trade like those adults have. She carefully chooses two leaves and gives them to Byleth. Once the trade is done, he adds a brief “Keep it a secret, okay? I want to give the leaves as a present.” and fortunately she believes him and agrees just before fleeing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You really are soft-hearted, Professor.” Linhardt comments, but when Byleth looks at him, he notices a tender expression on his face. “Now I get Hubert’s words from before. You are a terrible liar.” “I wasn’t lying.” Byleth says because, well, he hadn’t exactly planned it and he knows he can’t buy presents for every child that he meets, yet… he often sees her and most of the time she’s alone with the cats and the dogs, so maybe… he is a bit biased towards her. It may be true that he didn’t need the leaves, but—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Here,” he gives one of the leaves to Linhardt “you can have one of them. Use it as a bookmark.” it’s the offer, a slight amused note in his voice that he doesn’t hide. Surprisingly, Linhardt takes the autumn leaf in his hand, observes it and then carefully puts it in the new book he purchased. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You really do the most unexpected things, Professor.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Byleth is pretty sure that it’s a compliment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>*</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Manuela has checked every inch of him without a single flirty comment for the last half an hour. She mumbled something now and then, asked some questions and then told him there was nothing wrong with his body still in great disbelief - not in a bad way, Byleth gets that she’s glad he’s safe… but surprised, for sure. It’s how everyone seems to be since the moment they met after his long sleep.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Now that Manuela gave him the okay, he can be outside while the others are attending a meeting. Apparently they didn’t need him to be there, considering how much Hubert insisted that Byleth was only requested to rest for now (</span>
  <em>
    <span>orders from Her Majesty</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he said). The place is familiar but somehow different in a way Byleth doesn’t know how to explain. The only thing that is exactly the same is how the weather is so cold that even breathing seems to hurt. Byleth remembers traveling with his father and other mercenaries and cities were not always easy to find, villages sometimes had no rooms to spare, even during winter - </span>
  <em>
    <span>especially</span>
  </em>
  <span> during winter. Byleth knows what it means to not feel the fingers of your hands, to crave for warmth to the point that even sitting close to a bunch of men makes you feel a little better. How, after too much time without a roof on your head, the body is so frozen that you have the impression of feeling warm instead— the cruelest lie indeed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That is the winter Fódlan, and Faerghus in particular, offers. Such a rigid season that one could think the spring will never come again. Despite this, Byleth prefers walking around in the cold to the whole ‘resting’ option. He doesn’t need to rest. He wants to—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Didn’t Hubert tell you to let Manuela check on you and then take it easy?” the voice is behind him but, strangely enough, Byleth knows whose it is before looking at him. Linhardt has grown up like everyone else - except for Byleth, yes - and he’s a familiar presence yet, at the same time, he’s not (</span>
  <em>
    <span>like the whole Garreg Mach, like winter in Fódlan</span>
  </em>
  <span>). Byleth would like to say he can read his expression, but he can’t. “I did see Manuela.” he replies “But I wanted to look around since she said I’m okay.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you?” Linhardt implies something Byleth doesn’t get, implies like he has never done before— it’s not the Linhardt Byleth knows, the one he was used to. Sarcasm has always been part of him but he never really used it with the intention of hurting others willingly. There is… something Byleth can’t quite grasp: Linhardt doesn’t want to </span>
  <em>
    <span>hurt</span>
  </em>
  <span>, maybe, and yet— “Because I’m not sure someone who fell like you did and slept for five years can be fine </span>
  <em>
    <span>at all</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” he reasons as if he’s the teacher now, and Byleth the student who needs to hear the explanation over and over again. Honestly, what is he supposed to say? When they met at the ruins, even if they exchanged only a few words, Byleth thought that everything was the same as ever. Part of him now gets that it can’t be the same as if time stopped at their academy days - since, well, only Byleth’s time actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>stopped</span>
  </em>
  <span> - but how to behave now… this much, Byleth truly doesn’t know. He wishes he could still hear Sothis’ voice.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I…” he begins, eyes still on Linhardt “I don’t know how else I can say it. Physically, my condition is good. I have no wounds, I don’t feel any different.” he chooses to be honest, to the point of sounding almost apologetic; he chooses to tell the truth. Wasn’t Linhardt the one who said Byleth is a terrible liar? It feels like it happened only a few months ago, to him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But you are.” Linhardt argues and his expression is something Byleth has never seen before on him (something similar in front of death and blood, yes, but this is another thing, this is—) and once it’s there Byleth immediately wishes to see it never again. “Different.” Linhardt clarifies before walking away, like an accusation. Byleth doesn’t do anything to stop him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Suddenly, another memory of his mercenary days in the cold winter comes to mind: the one with a feeling of ice piercing his lungs every time he breathed, like millions of knives. Like now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>*</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <em>
    <span>There’s something in the air</span>
  </em>
  <span>, it’s what Byleth thought the moment he went outside of the building that morning. Part of him thinks that it must be his mind playing tricks to him, but the other part suggests that this is just him not being used to a life without battles, without war.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A gentle breeze moves the leaves on the trees; it’s one of the rare mornings when he can take his time and enjoy the silence. Not too far from where he’s sitting, Byleth knows that every single student’s name is engraved, because he asked for it. To remember those who may have been enemies at some point but that were, undeniably, his students once. There is still so much he feels when he looks at that memorial monument— so much he wasn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>used to feel</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he didn’t have to worry about, feelings without a name that never made him waver. Now there are days when it’s still so overwhelming that it’s as if he’s suffocating.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I knew you were here.” a familiar voice interrupts his stream of consciousness enough to make him open his eyes. Byleth is not surprised when he sees Linhardt in front of him, his usual clothes on - these are the small details that help Byleth when everything feels so distant that he almost thinks it was unreal, like it never happened in the first place. He nods and closes his eyes; after a few seconds of nothing, Linhardt is sitting on the grass, next to him. They share the silence and the breeze as they did a lot in the past, and yet it’s a small ritual they already lost once and barely saved. Not from the blood or from the war, nor from the deaths— sometimes Byleth thinks he didn’t manage to save anything at all.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The air is getting warmer.” Linhardt’s voice says, as soft as a whisper. Byleth likes how it sounds. It has always had a calming effect on him, never once he felt uncomfortable or uneasy but, above all, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>felt</span>
  </em>
  <span> and that’s why he should have realized it sooner. He can almost hear Sothis’ voice making fun of the situation. </span>
  <em>
    <span>How silly of you</span>
  </em>
  <span>, she would surely say. “Makes you want to take a nap, doesn’t it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mh. It does.” Byleth finally replies, relaxed against the tree behind them. Yet, instead of Linhardt laying down next to him like he used to do when he was still a student, Byleth feels his touch on his hand, their fingers gently intertwined now. That’s when he opens his eyes, again, and searches for Linhardt to see what expression he’s wearing right now. He only finds a tender smile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Does it… get better?” the question escapes his lips before Byleth can stop it and he immediately regrets it, because it’s so unfair to ask Linhardt— Byleth saw death for </span>
  <em>
    <span>years</span>
  </em>
  <span> as a mercenary, but back then he didn’t feel anything in particular and he </span>
  <em>
    <span>didn’t know</span>
  </em>
  <span> those people. But how are you supposed to live with it when you take the lives of people you knew… to that, Byleth still has no answers. It’s so unfair of him to think Linhardt does.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry.” he whispers “It was a stupid question.” “I don’t think you can ever, completely forget. Because we all thought we could have saved you five years ago, and we would have never forgotten if you were really dead. We won’t, even now that you are alive.” Linhardt explains carefully, soothing voice while his thumb slowly draws circles on Byleth’s hand. “But yes, it gets a bit better, eventually.” he admits “Because, either we want it or not, time passes. The seasons change. Sometimes it’s hatefully cruel that the world keeps going on, but isn’t it also reassuring somehow?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Byleth nods and holds his hand tighter. There are moments in the morning, like now, when despite the warm air some gusts of wind still feel cold, like a reminder of winter. And yet, it’s incredible how flowers are slowly, shyly blooming.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It does.” he murmurs “It sounds strangely reassuring, I mean.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Spring is still coming, regardless of the world being ready for it or not.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>the memorial thing is just something I wanted to add because I suffer immensely every time I have to kill someone in this game. Forgive me.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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